


The Young Avengers: A Snap Shot

by Eva_Emaria



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Next Avengers, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, The Avengers - Ambiguous Fandom
Genre: Arranged Marriage, Brother-Sister Relationships, Brothers, Children of the Avengers - Freeform, Disabled Character, F/M, Gen, Gilded Cages, Protective Parents, Protective Siblings, Unrequited Crush, WILLING Arranged Marriage
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-09
Updated: 2018-08-26
Packaged: 2019-05-04 05:33:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 16,136
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14586033
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eva_Emaria/pseuds/Eva_Emaria
Summary: Seven stories showing the lives of the children of the Avengers at a particular point in time.1. Intro: Characters, ages, and settingLike it says on the tin.2. Date NightJames just wants to have a quiet date night with his overly stressed out girlfriend. Unfortunately, Anna is a little too perceptive.3. Reining InPeter makes Jenny realize what the reality for everyone else is, and Jenny has an epiphany on her relationships.4. Sharing InformationJames and Peter share information, a.k.a. gossip, and then James brings up his worries.5. Scoops and DipsThe oldest three go out for an afternoon for a slice of normal, and Anna makes some discoveries about her twin and best friend.6. A Spark of InspirationTorunn observes her friends in a training session, muses, and makes a (small) break-through.7. Girls' Night (Sorta)Rose helps bolster Torunn's confidence...and opens herself  up to teasing from Jenny. (Anna, wisely, is hiding. Traitor.)8. The End is the BeginningBrooke struggles with the loss of her safety, Stephanie and Ash help her pick up the pieces.BONUS: Wakonda - A Father's Pride





	1. Intro: Characters, ages, and setting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Like it says on the tin.

Hello everyone, I thought I would start with a note that explains who everyone is, where all of these little shorts are set, and giving a rough break-down of ages/family units. Not everything is in here, that would defeat the purpose of the shorts, but this was basically a writing exercise to flesh out the character personalities and actually show them rather than just tell.

All characters in this story (actively, parents/other Avengers are named dropped and thus are not mentioned in the tags) are children of at least one Avenger, based heavily on the MCU but I am pulling from other sources as well, just tweaking as needed or I see fit. It doesn't necessarily fit neatly in any one universe, but MCU is definitely the heaviest influence, with the animated movie for the Next Avengers factoring in decently as well, though some of those characters got pretty heavily revamped. The setting is something that I created, called Stark City. (Basically, it's a dream come true for Howard Stark and sort of a way for Tony to both honor his father, and protect his daughter.) It is set sometime after Peter's birthday but before Jenny's (see below for that).

Family units are as follows, parents on the first row followed by children:

 **Clint Barton-Bobbi Morse**  
Anna Beth Barton, 22-January 1st, a.k.a. Ronin, melee and infiltration specialist. Primary weapons are swords, knives, and steel batons.  
Francis "Ash" Ashton Barton, 22-January 1st, a.k.a. Hunter, sniper and archer with melee secondary set.  
Brooke Edith Barton, 12-July 14th, a.k.a. Owlette (also called the Great Owl or Friend Owl), computer/communications specialist.

 **Steve Rogers-Sharon Carter**  
James Harrison Rogers, 20-September 11th, super-soldier enhancements. Melee specialist with shield.  
Peter Joseph Rogers, 18-May 30th, charismatic, fire arm and hand-to-hand proficient.

 **Bucky Barnes-Natasha Romanoff** _(with donated egg from Maria Hill)_  
Eleanor "Rose" Roosevelt Barnes, 21-December 23rd, sniper and hacker, slightly enhanced.

 **Tony Stark-Pepper Potts**  
Jennifer "Jenny" Juno Stark, 17-June 15th, a.k.a. Steele, mechanical genius, second-generation Extremis carrier (passive)

 **Thor Odinson-Lady Sif**  
Torunn Sifsdottir, 16-October 5th, Asgardian titled the Goddess of Lightning.

 **Vision-Wanda Maximoff** _(through a very complicated mess)_  
William "Will" Erik Maximoff, 16-March 28th, a.k.a. Wiccan, mutant with powers of probability manipulation.  
Thomas "Tom" Pietro Maximoff, 16-March 28th, a.k.a. Speed, mutant with powers of super-speed.

 **Stephen Strange-UNKNOWN**  
Stephanie Strange, 13-August 17th, sorceress-in-training

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edit: OOPS, I forgot to clarify Stephanie. Done now!


	2. Date Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> James just wants to have a quiet date night with his overly stressed out girlfriend. Unfortunately, Anna is a little too perceptive.

James very carefully kicked the door shut behind him, his hands full with grocery bags. He heard the lock engage, and grinned. "Thanks, Friday!" he called out on his way into the kitchen. The open floor plans of Avengers Tower made it where he wouldn't have to deal with another door (and thus juggling).

"You're welcome, Mr. Rogers. Miss Barton is in the office, I have alerted her to your arrival," the female AI informed him in her rolling Irish lilt.

He rolled his eyes a little when he set down the bags. "Did she cuss you out?" he asked, starting to unpack. Some of it went straight into the fridge or pantry, but he spread a lot of it out on the table—ingredients  for a very basic Italian dinner, and enough to feed at least six people.

"Not this time," the AI promised.

"Good," James said with a little smile. The conversation about being nice to the AI mother hen had stuck. "I'll take it from here, keep the knuckleheads from coming in short of an emergency?"

"Mr. A. Barton is currently upstairs with his mam, and your brother is out on assignment with Miss Barnes for at least another three days," the AI assured him before going quiet.

Good, they might actually have a shot at some peace and quiet on date night. For a change. The office, which was actually the guest bedroom once upon a time, was open—Anna hated closed doors, or really anything that blocked line of sight or muffled her hearing. James knocked on the doorframe instead before he leaned against it. "Hey there, stranger, going to come up for air?" he asked.

She jerked her head up to scowl at him. A tall blonde (if not quite as tall as her mother), she was built on similar lines, just leaner in her limbs and torso, with a turned-up nose that was courtesy of one Clint Barton's genetics, though hers made her look like an impish pixie instead of a pug. Her golden hair was a few shades lighter than Bobbi Barton's, also no doubt Clint's influence, that she wore in a feathered cut down to her shoulders that was as low maintenance as it got, and easy for her to pull back and under her mask when she was "working." Which was not now.

"Is that my shirt?" he asked in amusement. "Or should I say dress?" Because she was almost drowning in the heather grey fabric.

"Oh, shut up," she grumbled, slouching back into her chair as she took off her reading glasses. "I thought you were going to the store?"

"I did. Two hours ago," he said. "Which I'm guessing you didn't take a break since the last time I made you either." He walked into the office now that she was aware he was there, experience giving him the wisdom to do so rather than to have her start throwing knives at the possible intruder who showed up in her space unannounced. Snagging her glasses and setting them down on the desk, he folded the corner of her current page to close the heavy medical text in front of her without losing her place.

"Stop that, you're ruining my book," she said, swatting at him but without any real force to it.

He kissed the top of her head. "Come on," he coaxed. "Your exams aren't for another two weeks, and I don't think Bruce is expecting you to have all of the materials memorized." She scowled, crossing her arms, a silent argument. Well, hell, he wondered if maybe he'd have to go down and gently remind the good doctor/Avenger that Anna was _not_ her mother, and stressing her out like this was not healthy and therefore hypocritical for someone who was trying to turn some of her numerous PhDs into an MD. "It's date night," he reminded her, deciding that was about the only way she was going to budge. She'd gotten a double whack with the stubbornness gene.

But sure enough, Anna melted at the reminder, grabbing his arm in a gentle squeeze. "Oh hun, I'm sorry," she muttered. "I completely forgot. Let me go get changed, okay? I think Rose stuck _something_ in my closet last time she was here, so it won't even be my cargos and a t-shirt."

"Hey, I _like_ your cargos," he assured her, his lips quirking a little. He actually did think his girlfriend's tomboy dressing was adorable. Deadly, considering what all she kept in those extra pockets, but adorable. "And don't bother, okay? I thought we'd stay in tonight. There's a Yankees game on and everything."

Anna tilted her head back and gave him one of her rare smiles—she was by _far_ the most serious member of her family, made worse by all the responsibility she took on as the oldest of the young Avengers. "Order-in and baseball, no arguments here," she said, moving to stand up.

Even though she didn't need it, James's reflexes from watching his parents kicked in before he could help it, and he offered her his hand to take for leverage. Used to this quirk, she let him, also using it as a chance to cuddle in close to his side. Covertly (he hoped), he cupped her hip so she couldn't run. "We're not ordering in," he said honestly.

"We're not?" she said, her brow furrowing. "But then... Oh, no. No, _no, no._ Do you not remember what happened _last time?!_ No, Rogers!" She tried to jerk away, but he gently kept her in his hold with a lot of wrangling. When she tried to elbow him in the gut, he sighed and decided fair was not going to work. He knelt down so he'd be at the right height (since the difference between them was almost comical), and swept her up over his shoulder in a cave-man carry. "James Harrison Rogers!" she snapped, trying to knee him in the gut but he expertly avoided it.

He deftly set her down on one of the breakfast counter bar stools, setting his hands on either side of her on the counter to cage her in. She pouted up at him, which was thankfully _much_ better than he was afraid of. " _You_ are going to sit here," he said. "And chop. Or dice, if called for."

"James, I—" she tried to argue.

He pressed a finger to her lips to shush her. "And _I'm_ going to cook, so you're going to have to find something for us to talk about," he finished. "Non-work related, per our agreement."

Her stormy blue eyes blinked at him for a moment, startled. Her eyes flickered over the ingredients over the countertop—there wasn't a whole lot of chopping, and her knife skills (even if they were for fighting, not culinary) could handle it. Hopefully. "You're cooking?" she confirmed, her voice really small.

He pressed his forehead against hers, making her look back at him. "Yeah, I'm cooking. You're helping, so you won't feel guilty about it, and then you're going to stop stressing out, okay?" Her shoulders, tense for the past three days, finally seemed to relax a little as she gave a minuet nod. James pulled back and kissed her once, gently, and walked around the counter. He shoved her a cutting board, a knife, and the mushrooms. "Slice, please," he asked.

"You realize you can buy them already done," she pointed out, but obediently started to do so. "Mom's had me pick them up from the store that way for extended family dinners."

"That's because your mom, my mom, Miss Maximoff, and Aunt Pepper are trying to cook for twenty-eight people, of which there are two adult enhanced, one adult Asgardian, three enhanced-via-genetics teenagersish, though only mine is completely active, a teenage Asgardian, a mutant speedster who puts _all_ of us enhanced people to shame, five normal teenagers... Oh yeah, and your brother, who is diabetic," James listed from memory, having heard his mother's list more than once. "Short cuts are needed to cook enough food to feed a small country." Sharon Rogers did not mess around with making sure her family was eating their required calories, and with Bobbi Barton on hand, no one didn't know what they needed. He also deftly got the pasta going and started browning the chicken, keeping a mental track of calories for Anna's sake more than his, since she didn't have his metabolism.

"Is teenagerish a word?" she teased, finishing the mushrooms and starting on mincing the garlic and dicing some onions with little protest.

"Shush, you," he joked as he set the (jarred) sauce to start heating up, pointing the saucy wooden spoon at her. "Not all of us collect degrees like candy wrappers."

She hummed, taking the spoon from him to lick clean. He rolled his eyes at this ridiculous habit of hers (he'd seen her do it with her mom), and grabbed another spoon. "So, is that why Ash is sulking with Mom?" she asked casually.

Damn it, he forgot all about the weird telepathic bond between her and her twin. He tensed up, glaring down at the mess of pots and pans he had going. "I had nothing to do with that," he insisted.

Anna hummed, tilting her head to the side and studying him. James could _feel_ _it_ between his shoulder blades. "No, you're a little too defensive about your lack of one yourself, though at least you have the super soldier, son of the Captain America, excuse to fall back on. So, I'm going to guess Stark."

He flinched.

Anna threw down the spoon in disgust. And no small amount of frustration, since while Rose gave her lip, she at least would obey orders from their de facto leader. Jenny Stark wouldn't even do that if she got in one of her moods, always convinced she was the smartest in the room. "What did she say?" Anna demanded.

"This is work related—" James tried to distract.

"No, it's _you_ related and you're deflecting. _What did she say?"_ she insisted, leaning on to the counter to get closer to him.

He stirred some of the food around to try and put off answering her, and then sighed. "Basically went off about how everyone has a college education now except for morons, so they don't mean anything. I think she's annoyed that you are finally getting your actual-medical-doctorate and all the fuss some of the adults are making of it." Specifically Tony Stark, who was still annoyed that his daughter refused to go get a formal degree since, as she put it, she knew everything her dad knew, what else was there for them to teach her?

"Never mind that under that armor, she's as human as me or Ash," Anna grumbled, a hint of a snarl under her breath. "Never mind that not everyone can afford college, or has the aptitude, or wants to."

"Or is allowed," James added morosely. He'd wanted to go. He'd been _excited_ to go, finally get out from under his parents and specifically the ever watching, ever judging, eyes of his father. He'd even picked out a degree—military history. But in the end, the Avengers had voted, and, swayed he was sure by the original super soldier himself, they'd decided it was too dangerous. Hell, even Anna had to get her degrees under the tutelage of other Avengers or off-shoots, or if she was lucky, she could telecommute some of the necessary classes that they didn't have in-house experts on. It meant that whenever she published something, she had to fight twice as hard to prove her credentials. Add her age when she got most of them, and it all went to Hell.

Anna sighed, standing up and wrapping her arms around his waist from behind in a loose hug. "I'll drop it," she murmured. "I just didn't want you feeling like you had to hide stuff from me because I spent the day studying instead of with my team."

"I just wish I understood what you do, what _Dad_ does, that makes leading so easy," he murmured back, flicking off the stove top with a twist of his wrist. "I suck at it, and it becomes real clear every time I have to step up as your second. Makes me feel like all I am is my powers."

"It is _not_ easy," she said dryly, leaning her head against his back with another sigh. "But I get what you mean. The best I can figure out, it's because we were allowed to be social where you weren't. Oh, your dad may have struggled because of his health, but he had Bucky. I had Ash, and then Rose. We could all rough-house together. But your born-playmate came out a norm, and Torunn didn't get here until last year... You're learning stuff that the rest of us took for granted when we were kids. But you know what?"

"What?" he asked, looking over his shoulder at her.

She rested her chin against his back to look up at him as best she could. "You're getting better. Every time I step out for a couple of days, you come out of it a little more sure that you did the right thing, that you handled it as best you could."

A shy, hopeful smile cross his face, and he turned around so he could hold her close. "Really?" he murmured, looking at her with all the love he felt for her...even if they'd fought like cats and dogs in their teen years.

She smiled back and leaned up to rub her nose against his—bunny kisses, a pun on her childhood nickname. _"Really._ And you are _so much_ more than your powers, or your parents. Don't say that crap, alright? Even in your head."

He had to kiss her then, even if it meant their dinner was going to get a little cold and they were going to miss the beginning of the game. There were nine innings, they weren't going to miss much.


	3. Reining In

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter makes Jenny realize what the reality for everyone else is, and Jenny has an epiphany on her relationships.

Jenny wiggled her lower lip between her teeth as she watched her boyfriend empty a clip at a target. While it wasn't a scary perfect hole, the cluster was good. He barely paused to reload before emptying another, and only then did he breathe out. Taking off his headphones, Peter Rogers flipped the switch for the target to come down from the other end of the range. Only now did Jenny feel particularly safe approaching. "Soooo... I have a feeling you might be a little mad at me," she said lightly, hoping it would hide her concern.

He shot her a disappointed look. Ouch, nope. Worse than mad.

"If I say I'm sorry, will that help?" she asked, trying for meek now. She was usually pretty good at it—as the most petite of all the kids her age and older, she usually looked too fragile to risk harming.

"I don't know," he bit out. "Are you going to _actually_ mean it, or are you saying it to pacify me?" He grabbed the hand gun to put back in the case on the table, which contained a harness and a second hand gun that could be hidden under most jackets.

"Okay, _that_ was a little harsh," she tried to argue, hurrying to stand on the other side of the table as he packed up. She tucked a strand of long, straight red hair behind her ear, trying to make her hazel eyes bigger in hopes it would make him take a little bit of pity on her. "I was just blowing off steam, everyone knew that."

_"Did they,_ Jenny?" Peter asked, looking up at her as he slammed the case closed. "You seem _really_ sure about that, considering how fast Ash disappeared upstairs and James not long after him."

"It was James and Anna's _precious_ date night, that doesn't mean anything," she tried to dismiss, unable to keep her biting sarcasm out of her voice.

Peter pointed at her face. _"There,_ that _right there_ is why I'm upset with you. You _still_ don't get it, you just want me to stop being mad because it makes _your_ life uncomfortable." Flipping the latches of the case, he shoved it on to the right shelf of weapon storage and stalked through the halls towards the more public parts of the Tower...sort of, since you still had to be an Avenger or know one personally to get up this high.

"No, I don't!" she yelled, having to run to keep up with him. She paused as he turned to scowl at her with an expression that made her want to disappear into the floor. "Okay _, a little_. But only because you aren't explaining to me what's wrong!"

He snorted at her contemptuously. "What's wrong is God forbid someone get even a _sliver_ more freedom than you, even if it's the _most backwards thing ever,_ since your parents are about the only one here who would let you get away with murder. And _no,_ Thor doesn't count," he said before she'd even had a chance to open her mouth to point out the hole in his logic. "Not considering _the cluster fuck_ that is his and Torunn's situation. And as soon as it happens, you start railing against them. And if it's Anna? You'd rather the whole Tower get burned down and the ground salted--with her still inside, ideally."

Wow, that was harsh. Like, _way_ harsher than Jenny actually thought. She just wanted the uptight, bossy blonde to jump off the roof occasionally and lighten up a little. But Peter had actually _cussed_ , something that pretty much only happened when he was extremely upset and out of his dad's super hearing. Swallowing, Jenny tried to understand where he was coming from, speaking out loud like was her habit. "I just don't get the big deal that Anna is getting another degree, or why all the adults keep holing up in meetings—"

"Because Anna isn't going to be able to go do a normal residency," Peter said like it was the most obvious thing in the world. "The board is _barely_ going to acknowledge her license as it is, and she's basically going to follow Bruce around every time someone gets hurt." He looked at her, his brow furrowing deeply like it did when he was realizing something important. "You don't know, do you?"

"Don't know what?" she asked testily. See, this is why she and Anna butted heads, there was always this _assumption_ that the older girl knew more just because she'd gone to college...

"We aren't allowed to leave the city outside of missions," he said blandly. "Or at least, most of us aren't. Why do you think I'm getting agent training from the Bartons and Romanoff instead of anything else?" Peter shook his head, looking more upset at her shocked expression than anything she had said. "We're walking targets, Jenny. _All_ of us. And while our parents will do their utmost to protect us or find us if we get in trouble, there are limits on _everyone._ Except yours. Because under the Iron Man suit, Tony Stark is a wealthy, white American billionaire with a white wife, both of them clean for the most part at least when it comes to criminal background checks."

"That isn't that big of a deal anymore," she protested weakly. It wasn't, was it? Surely with Wakonda out in the open, and all the struggle during her early years, things were better. "And there's drawbacks to some of that, you know."

But her boyfriend wasn't the sort to give her comforting little lies to hide behind, even if he was finding out about them rather than telling them. "Yes, everyone knows your face because it’s been plastered on society pages since you were nine months old. So have ours. But what happens if Ash gets taken, and his kidnappers don't give him insulin? They could _easily_ push Rose into a complete breakdown. Will and Tommy are still treated like second-class citizens in some parts of the country— _double_ for Will since he came out of the closet last month. God, what if they got their hands on _Brooke?"_ he pushed the verbal knife as deep as possible.

And Jenny could only stare at him blankly. She'd never thought of any of that. Ash's diabetes had been a thing since he was six, she'd just been a toddler at the time, so for her, it hadn't even registered how badly that could go. And Peter had such a handle on Rose in high stress situations... Stark City didn't allow discrimination for enhanced or mutants, or for sexual orientation. But _Brooke?_ That was the punch in the gut. Brooke had never left the Tower, ever, and Jenny was only just now realizing it. And why. The youngest of them all, she was also the biggest secret. No one knew she existed outside of those who had to, and for good reason. She was virtually defenseless, outside of the Tower.

Peter wasn't done yet either. "And _all_ of those worries, those concerns? Anna _has_ to think about them in training with us, when she takes those of us who are cleared for it out of the city limits, whenever she is working with the adults on how we can help handle a situation," he continued ruthlessly. "And she's been doing it since she was a teenager and she and Ash decided to follow their parents' footsteps professionally rather than taking the training as a fact of life. Her getting her MD? So if something happens to her, or Ash, or me, or you, there's a medic already there, especially if we're out of the country and Bruce can't get to us. Remember, he's kinda bound as a Weapon of Mass Destruction by the UN."

That made the least amount of sense. Anna and Jenny had been rivals for years...hadn't they? It always seemed like as soon as Jenny figured out some technological advance to show her father, Anna was picking up another degree or a new weapon or something else. Even the creation of the Steele suit, powered by Jenny's recessive Extremis, had been overshadowed by Anna figuring out some compound that'd had her father running for his own lab to figure out where all it could be applied.

But now that Peter was forcing her eyes open... Jenny had been a kid, doing kid things, trying to get her father's attention, when Anna had already been an adult or nearly one. It wasn't the same thing. And now, her father did pay more attention to what she found, often forcing her to rethink her experiments to figure out ways to make it apply to more than her own suit or to the Tower itself. They were equals, but due to experience, Anna was the logical choice to put in charge. Not Jenny, who was still getting her feet wet. "I didn't think..." she muttered, rubbing her forehead as her world view continued to shift.

"James and Ash, by the way, both want to go to school and _can't,"_ Peter explained that little social facet that she had missed. "James is considered too dangerous by the powers that be to be in among the general population like that, and Ash doesn't think he's smart enough, since he's gotten compared to a bunch of _geniuses_ his whole life."

Jenny blinked, pushing back her tears as she accepted that yes, she'd been wrong. She'd been _way_ wrong. And she didn't know how to fix it. Crossing her arms to hug herself, she rocked on her heels. "I'm sorry," she whispered. "I really am. I just... I get mad, and then I start talking..." She hadn't realized that while she was in a gilded cage, it was a lot better than the bubble everyone else was under.

Sure, her and Peter had attended the public school system, at least till she tested out in frustration last year. But Vision taught almost everyone else, with his wife-in-all-but-paperwork stepping in for the humanities that Vision still struggled with understanding. Yes, the public saw the others...but they didn't really socialize with them, not like Jenny could. Hell, that was how she'd managed to find Torunn and was the one who'd been able to get her to the Tower before the adults had heart attacks over an attack from Asgard.

There was a huff, and then warm arms wrapped around her, squeezing her just right to make her feel comforted rather than smothered. "Now _that_ apology, I believe," Peter murmured into her hair, squeezing her a little tighter. Jenny was of the biased opinion that Peter gave the _best_ hugs out of everyone in the Tower. They always made her feel cherished, like she'd done something _good_ to deserve it. Even if in this case it was admitting that she had done something bad. "So tonight, we're going to go watch a movie, and let James keep coaxing Anna into at least pretending to be normal and Ash find some comfort with his parents."

"Okay," Jenny agreed wetly, accepting the little stab of guilt at what she'd sneered at being a waste of time now making a lot more sense. It was supposed to be a dig at Anna, but that wasn't who had gotten hurt. "And then I can apologize to them in the morning. Anna twice."

"There's the girl genius," he said, moving to wrap his arm around her shoulders instead and leading her to the upper levels. He knew she'd want to wash her face, reapply her rather extensive eye make-up, and possibly change her clothes before they went anywhere public.

She grinned a little at the nickname, her mind already turning. "You know, next time Dad starts to bug me about college, I'm going to throw it back at him that we have people here who obviously want to go who can't," she said firmly. "Maybe he won't roll over so much when Captain glares at him in those grown-up-only meetings."

"I don't think your dad knows _how_ to roll over," Peter said dryly. "Except maybe to your mom. _She's_ the scary one."

"You know, most boyfriends are afraid of their girlfriend's dad with a gun, not their mom," she argued just for the sake of it.

"Your dad is whipped, your mom is the real threat," he disagreed with a quirk to his lips. "Thankfully, she already likes me. Thinks I'm a good influence."

The redhead rolled her eyes, leaning in and laughing at him. "Yeah, little does she know." Actually, it was the truth, but it was fun to tease Peter like he was less of the golden boy than he believed. While James had gotten the enhancements, personality wise, Peter was definitely more his father's son. It was kind of adorable. "So what movie are we going to go see?"

His face blanked out, and her brain yelled at her to remember what the last ten minutes had been about. "Wait, rewind, take two. What movie are we seeing here?" She made big eyes, hoping she'd get points for trying.

Thankfully, he gave her a smile, even if it was a bit wry. “I’ll ask Mom if we can go out,” he assured her. “It should be fine, provided no one got Dad’s tail in a knot.”

Jenny nodded, breathing out as she leaned her head against his arm. Mentally, she started forming apologies so she’d be ready as soon as she next saw everyone. She owed them. Big time.


	4. Sharing Information

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> James and Peter share information, a.k.a. gossip, and then James brings up his worries.

The two brothers were a study in subtle contrasts. Both were tall and broad, though the older had a few extra inches and was heavier in musculature, both blonde. The elder brother had their mother’s honey-blonde tone (though his had gotten a heavy dose of curl from  _somewhere_ ) and soulful dark eyes, while the younger favored their father’s wheat locks and blue eyes that measured all who met them. It was hard to miss that they were related—both had their father’s jawline and their mother’s wide forehead (though God forbid anyone tell her that).

But they moved differently. They were currently in one of the work-out rooms with heavy mats on the floor, both in sweats and fitness tanks for the sake of modesty, Peter with his forearms and hands wrapped for protection though James hadn’t bothered. James was all caution, every foot set in a particular place, ever muscle under his control. If he knocked his baby brother through a wall, Dad would kill him. But Peter? Peter didn’t have to worry about that, so he bounced on the balls of his feet lightly, keeping his energy high.

“Did Jenny come by yet?” he asked...and then ducked in to try and get a few jabs in while James was distracted.

Unfortunately, it didn't work, and James almost seemed to glide out of the way, hooking his foot around Peter's ankle to trip him up. "Yep," he said with a smirk on his mouth. "Got more of an eyeful than she intended, though."

Peter hopped to get back his balance, twisting around to meet his brother again, throwing a kick at his head. James blocked with his forearm and then shoulder-checked him, sending Peter tumbling for some distance before he figured out his next route of attack. "Anna or Jenny?" he asked, exasperated.

"Oh, it was _all_ Anna this time," James admitted easily, rushing his baby brother to tackle him to the ground...although he did twist so his shoulder hit the mat first, rather than risk actually hurting Peter. He kept his hold, though, making Peter squirm as he tried to figure out how to break it. "Let her in while we were still just getting around."

"Aw, hell." Peter relaxed, tapping out, so James would let him up. He got back on his feet and leaned down, hands on his knees. "You weren't still  _in bed,_  were you?" His brother sleeping with his team leader was still the grossest thing ever in his opinion, but they somehow made it work and they weren't fighting all the time anymore, so he guessed it was worth it.

James glared at him, the tips of his ears turning red. "No, smart ass," he said, lurching up to his feet himself. "But she still got an eyeful, since I didn't have a shirt on and Anna was still in her robe and, horror of all horrors,  _giggling."_

Peter nodded, relaxing a little himself. Anna's stress tended to carry over to everyone who was capable of picking up on it no matter how much she tried to suppress it. It at least looked like James had gotten her to  _breathe,_  which would make everything easier. "It's okay, I'm sure she'll recover," he said dryly, unconcerned. Oh sure, from an aesthetic point of view, his older brother was better looking. But Peter knew that his stonewalling face disconcerted Jenny, and all the abs in the world wasn't going to distract from that. He had no worries about his brother poaching his girlfriend. He straightened up and reached for the ceiling to stretch his back out. "What did she do?"

"Turned right around and walked back into the front hall, saying she hated us," James said with a snicker, walking over to where a small fridge kept water chilled—in sealed bottles, for the sake of any of the really paranoid Avengers who used the space. He tossed one to Peter and cracked open his own. "Wouldn't come back in until I had on a shirt and Anna a pair of sweats." He took a swig, and then side-eyed his brother. "She actually apologized for the other day."

"Good," Peter said shortly, sure that would be the end of it.

"No, I mean, really apologized," James pressed a little. "Not just her surface crap that she does to try and keep her mom off her tail. And asked me what I wanted to go to college for and where, so she had ammo against the powers that be." He frowned a little at Peter. "You didn't have to push her to do that."

Sighing, Peter flipped the plastic bottle caps between his fingers to help keep his train of thought steady—it was a trick he used with Rose all the time, to help her brain work without getting stuck in hyper-focus. "Yeah, I did. She's going out in the field now, she can't just keep going off and doing her own thing because Anna gave her orders to do the opposite. Not saying that's completely going to stop," he quickly interrupted himself. "Because she's a Stark, it's gonna happen. But at least not as bad, and she'll stop to think a little more now. And honestly, if we could get her dad on our side, maybe some of the restrictions will lighten up. It's not like they can keep this going forever..."

It was quiet for a moment, both wondering if in fact the adults could keep their children leashed to the Tower, long enough that Peter thought he could relax a little. "Come on, let's see if I can get you down this time," he needled a little, backing up on to the mats.

James chuckled quietly, and followed. His brother was the quiet and steady type, as long as nothing stirred up the monster of a temper he had. Sometimes, Peter wondered if their parents wished the enhanced status was switched. God knew, James would have been more content to stay on the sides while Peter was better suited to being up front, at least in terms of personality and preferences. But the fact it hadn't ended up the way that on paper it should have? It was working better for their generation, what with Anna having every scrap of leadership potential as her parents combined if not more and Rose's special needs requiring someone who could get between her and the rest of the world half of the time. Maybe neither son was the leader their father was, but they were just as good at support as their mother, and that made both of the boys proud, at least.

As distracted as he was musing about should-haves, Peter completely missed the grapple that James was going for. He grunted as he caught, then shouted as he got thrown, hitting the pad with a loud thump. He jerked his head up to scowl at James. "What the hell?"

"You weren't paying attention," he said mildly, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "I asked a question."

"You know, this would be easier if we weren't trying to talk and spar at the same time," Peter complained, getting back up on his feet. James was waiting patiently, so it was a perfect opportunity to bull-rush him.

The super-soldier actually side-stepped him, grabbing him by the middle and pulling him up into the air. "Yeah, but at least we're talking," he argued with a laugh, even as Peter fought to get put down, now. At last, James set him back down again, Peter spinning away immediately in a grumble. James rubbed the back of his neck, looking at Peter. "Better than we were a few months ago, at any rate."

Peter snorted at the reminder. While they hadn't quite reached the sheer squabbling-but-protective levels of the Barton twins, or the near-constant power struggle between James and Anna in the middle years, there had been a cold war between the Rogers brothers growing up. And it had all come to a head when Peter finally became a legal adult...and none of his restrictions lifted. It had forced him to take a hard look at what was going on, and he'd confronted James about it. They'd fought, James had almost broken Peter's arm and Peter had whacked him in the head so hard that James had staggered like he was drunk.

But all the pain had been bled out of them, as they'd shouted what it was about each other that made them so mad. While James had definitely gotten more of their father's attention growing up, it hadn't been as Dad but as Captain America pushing a soldier to control strength and reflexes that James had never been without, so it was hard for him to realize what was and wasn't normal. He'd been almost quarantined until his teenage years as a result, which also explained why he'd fallen right into little boy harassing Anna upon meeting. Of them both, Peter had the real relationship with their father, as absent as he was, and had gotten to have at least a quasi-normal childhood. While Mom tried to be fair about her time, but James just ended up with more by sheer timing and needing at least one parental figure that wasn't always on his case.

Once they'd realized they were on opposite sides of a coin and both  _sucked_ , it became a lot easier to actually talk.

The new open relationship between them was still raw, still feeling out the edges, but it was better. It gave Peter the confidence to back off the fight and ask with a sigh, "What was the question?"

James frowned, putting his hands on his hips as if he wanted to cross his arms but didn't want to seem defensive. "Have you seen Dad much?"

Now that he mentioned it... Peter frowned, thinking it over and shaking his head. He hadn't noticed, a little busy with the latest show down on their team that had happened while he and Rose were out, but yeah, it'd just been Mom in their apartment. She'd been chattering at him about moving into one of the guests floors as his own place, he'd gotten distracted trying to deflect her from finding out he was wanting to room with Rose until Jenny moved into a floor of her own. "No. He must be out on some sort of mission. Not too big of deal."

"Except Mom's worried," James said, quiet as he looked up where they knew the cameras were. While most of the spy-types could read lips, at least the hidden mics would have a hard time picking them up. "Hawk's gone too, Ash told me this morning. So's Vision and Scarlet, Mom and Mock are taking turns checking in on the twins. Have you seen Rose since you got back last night? Are Winter and Widow both still here?

Peter held up his finger and went to his phone. While it was technically a Stark phone, meaning Tony could access it at any time if he so desired, Peter had his own ways around it. He sent Rose a string of what looked like gibberish—not code, the genius could crack that, but instead abbreviations and symbols, some in Russian rather than English, based on the partnership between Rose and Peter that you had to know to actually get it. If all the parents worked together, they'd figure it out, but it'd take them a couple of hours.

Her response was delayed, she must have been playing a game that his text interrupted. He frowned, translating the response in his head. "Her dad is in, her mom is out. She says he's hovering a little too much too, they had a fight this morning." He looked up at James. "Where's Anna?"

"She, Ash, and Rose are in town," he said, explaining that response in the other way Rose could be distracted from her phone. "It was pre-approved, probably the only way they got permission." James crossed his arms now, frowning. "That must have been what the fight was about. Bucky didn't want Rose out of his sight." Which said something. Bucky and Natasha were two of the more encouraging adults, if only because Rose needed a lot of pushing to even be half as bad as the rest of them about her freedom.

"So what's going on that they have us on lockdown and half of the most powerful parents are out?" Peter asked rhetorically. He brought his phone back up and sent a text to his girlfriend. No one knew Friday like Tony Stark...except Jenny Stark, who had managed to convince the AI to keep her proto-type Steele armor a secret from her father for weeks.


	5. Scoops and Dips

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The oldest three go out for an afternoon for a slice of normal, and Anna makes some discoveries about her twin and best friend.

The trio stepped out of the ice cream parlor with a burst of laughter, almost tripping over each other. It was rare that it was just the three of them, the first born of the Avengers, and when it was, they tried to milk it for all it was worth. Anna had already finished her errands, filing paperwork to register officially as a first-year doctor, and her exception-to-residency plan that had her acting as team medic under Dr. Banner's supervision, as odd as it might be in current times where most med students spent it at the local hospital. Not that the board had argued much—it was a fact that having her in the hospital for days on end made it even more of a target than normal.

Ash and Rose had much more superficial errands, mostly excuses so the three of them could go into the city to celebrate a little without younger siblings, parents, or cousins-by-association under foot. Rose's vintage record collection was a built-in excuse that her dad, at least, had a hard time saying no to since it was something they could bond over, and Ash knew that spicy Philippines-style food was the way to bribe his mom into anything, which required specific ingredients that weren't always picked up on grocery runs. But the ice cream parlor had been on the way, and they fully intended on catching the latest _Fast and the Furious_ movie before going on those errands, mostly so they could make fun of the illogical stunt work while they browsed.

Anna shook her head at the monster that Rose had ordered—a chocolate waffle bowl, with Triple Chocolate ice cream—chocolate ice cream with fudge swirl and chunks of brownies mixed in (three scoops), chocolate cookie shavings and dark chocolate mini-chips, chocolate sauce, whipped cream, and fresh strawberry slices instead of cherry. "I thought they were going to tell you no _eventually,"_ she admitted with a grin, her own treat much simpler--a chocolate waffle cone herself, with soft serve vanilla yogurt.

"Why would they, considering what they _charged_ her for it?" Ash pointed out, taking the spoon out of his mouth. Rather than ice cream or yogurt, he'd gotten a mini-rainbow of scopes of sorbet—orange, strawberry, and lemon. He'd already factored for the sugar with his last insulin dose, but Anna was still keeping a close eye on him out of habit.

Taller than his twin, though not by much, his hair was even fairer than hers though still in the gold-spectrum, his eyes the same stormy blue. He'd gotten his mother's handsome features in his face, though his father's jawline, and proportionally, he was broader and more muscled in his chest and arms than his legs. Unlike her own habits of living in cargos, t-shirts, and sneakers, he actually took a couple extra steps to look nice, in dark wash jeans, a button up shirt under his leather jacket. Little things, but they usually helped people think he was the older sibling.

There was also a little furrow between his brows that Anna recognized. "You don't have to keep it up, you know," she murmured at him. "If it's too much of a strain."

Her baby brother shook his head, his mouth pressing into a stubborn line. "It's not that bad yet. I'll drop it during the movie, promise. That will let me rest a little."

She hummed, trying to believe him. Her own telepathic powers were like their mother's—immeasurable, inconsistent, and just above baseline, aside from her bond with Ash which was considered a twin thing, not a telepathic thing. But Ash had it stronger, if a very specific variation. He could make people forget he was there. It was a bit like their father's zen archer state, just enhanced. Ash didn't have to sit completely still for it to work, though, which made him a more mobile sniper against enemies that could sense thoughts or emotions. It didn't work quite as well when he wasn't trying to hit something without being seen, but it did make people not register who they were looking at. Which kept all the fuss associated with the young Avengers stepping out of the Tower to a stand-still, at least until hours after they left and Ash's power wore off.

Rose, thankfully, had tuned them out completely, focusing on her ice cream with happy sounds. That helped ease Anna's guilt for using Ash's gift like this, at least a little. Not a lot of people trusted Rose, considering her parentage, and she didn't like crowds, which tended to swarm any time any of them went anywhere. This let her actually enjoy herself.

Her dark hair was ombre-dyed so the ends were a brilliant scarlet red that faded into the black, hanging in silky sheets down her back with her thick bangs not having any dye at all. Her skin had an olive tone to it that neither of her parents had—a result of half of her genetics actually belonging to Maria Hill, who had volunteered to help the Russian heroes since she had no desire for children herself. Her dark grey eyes, though, were all her father's, and she even had his "murder walk" stride, aided by her punk aesthetic boots. Her mother, though, insured that those steps were silent as any good assassin, and as the second shortest of the young ones, she needed her father's walk to keep from being looked over entirely.

What stood out the most, though, were the black hearing-aid-type devices in both of her ears. They actually muffled sound, since Rose's hearing was too sharp and could make her uncomfortable. They put her in about the normal-hearing range, or at least closer to Anna who had sensitive hearing but wasn't enhanced. Similarly, it wasn't possible to just look at her and know that Rose was enhanced like it was James. That was because almost all of Rose's enhanced features were internal, due to her being born almost two months early. Rather than push her beyond human limits, the genetic-carry-over from Bucky just tried to keep her alive and functioning. The result was...mixed.

Like now. Anna reached over, brushing her hand along Rose's elbow so she wouldn't startle her and hooking her elbow through hers as part of the motion. Rose's signs of getting hyper-focused on one thing were minuet, but most of the residents of the Tower knew them by now. "So, think you'll finish that in time for the movie?" she asked lightly, pulling Rose back into the conversation.

Blinking almost owlishly, Rose shook herself back into the present pretty easily. "Of course," she said with a grin. And then took a huge bite that gave Anna brain freeze even looking at it. Swallowing it down though like it was nothing, Rose took control of the conversation to harmless chatter—mostly teasing Anna as the only person in the current trio with a full-time boyfriend (or girlfriend, as the case would be in Ash's situation). Ash quickly jumped in, and between the two, they kept the conversation flowing while treats were finished and movie tickets were bought.

Anna didn't completely relax though until the lights went out. She reached over and pinched Ash's arm, making him yelp. It also disrupted his concentration. "I was going to drop it, _Annie_ ," he hissed with deliberate emphasis.

"Well, now you don't have to, _Ashton_ ," she copied him, leaning back in her seat with a smirk. "Now be quiet."

"Why, to see trailers to movies we're not going to be able to see till they come out on demand?" Ash muttered sarcastically.

"No, to avoid having to pick popcorn out of our hair. Now shhh," she shushed him. Due to having had ice cream, neither of them had bothered buying anything at the concession stand, but Rose had gotten a soda and a small bucket of popcorn. Anna swiped a couple of pieces from her best friend, ignoring the dirty look that got her and Rose shifting the popcorn to the other side of her seat. It was a ritual, and Anna appreciated those. Much like they all snorted at the bad physics of the driving and stunt work, though they all got giggles and laughs out of the dialogue and comradery between the characters.

Rose and Anna got separated from Ash in the crowd out, making them roll their eyes and find a covert corner to hide in while they waited for him to come out. There were a few looks their way, but none that seemed to register who they were. It still made Anna's skin itch. She wanted them out of this location, sooner rather than later.

Finally, Ash made his appearance. Walking backwards as he chatted to a trio of pretty girls, who were giggling at his antics. Rose stiffened, glaring at them as if they offended her. Anna blinked, not used to seeing _that_ reaction in her friend, but let it go. Instead, she focused on riding herd on her twin. "Oye, _Francis_!" she yelled to get his attention.

Like he was trained, his ears went up around his shoulders. The girls all burst into giggles, and parted to walk on either side of him. Ash slowly turned around, watching the girls leave, and then stalked towards his sister. "What. The. _Hell_?" he demanded in a hiss.

"We're ready to go," she said mildly like she hadn't just embarrassed the crap out of him. But the glimmer in her eyes betrayed what a lie that was. She enjoyed giving her baby brother Hell. She grabbed Rose's wrist, pulling her after her and out the door.

The theater opened up to an expansive courtyard and parking spaces—even in Stark City, no space was going to be left to become a lifeless parking lot. This courtyard even included a large fountain with the Avengers logo as the center piece—a reminder of who was housed there, the city council's idea rather than Tony Stark's.

Ash was right on their heels. "Why such a rush?" he complained. "I was just flirting with some girls, I may have actually gotten a date out of it."

Rose tugged her hand free, crossing her arms and walking forward with a huff. Ahh, that was the way the wind blew. Great, super, _just_ peachy. Anna huffed and turned to glare at her twin, hands on her hips. And of course he was going to be as dense as a pile of rocks about it, and she wasn't going to say anything unless Rose wanted her to.

Different truth then. "Like Hell they'd let you out to date," she pointed out instead. "They barely let Peter and Jenny go out last night, and God forbid James and I try." In fact, rather than seek permission, Anna had just moved into James's flat two years ago. All of the parents had been ready to pitch a fit, but the move was already done, and undoing it would have required a fight no one would win. That, and no one wanted to test the might of the younger generation against their parents yet.

Ash scowled. “You don’t know that.”

She snorted at him, crossing her arms. Anna was better with people than him, she thought she had a bead on the powers that be, much more than he did. So she wasn’t going to budge on this. Plus, if there was a chance for her twin and her best friend to date, she was going to give them a shot.

So sure of herself, she completely missed the warning signs. Ash gave her a hard shove, and she squealed as she went careening backwards…right into the fountain.

Righting herself, uncaring that she was getting _more_ wet, she slicked back her hair and glowered at her now out-right laughing twin. “Fine, asshole, you got me, now help me out,” she demanded hold out her hand.

He managed to get ahold of himself, and accepted her hand. Gullible, thy name is Francis. Grinning, she gave a tug. Pulling him into the water with her in an even bigger splash.

Sputtering, he held up his arms in distaste. “You heartless _bitch_ ,” he sighed, but he was smiling. “This is my favorite jacket.” It was almost impossible for them to be mad at each other.

Rose leaned over, hands on her knees, and tilted her head at them both. “I’m not getting my records, am I?” she asked, frowning at them.

The twins shared looks, then reached out and grabbed her. She shrieked and the splash war was on. The pedestrians would stop, shake their heads, and move on, completely unaware that the frolicking young adults were three of the young Avengers. Of course, when they finally returned to the Tower sopping wet, they’d have to explain themselves to their parents. But for right now, this was a taste of normal. And they were going to take it.


	6. A Spark of Inspiration

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Torunn observes her friends in a training session, muses, and makes a (small) break-through

Torunn leaned her hip into the shelf that was attached to the viewing window. Tall for her age, she was easily the height of some of the grown-men here, so it wasn't a difficult position for her to take. She watched with hungry eyes at two of her mortal year-mates, at the training session she wasn't allowed to take part in. Not only for fear of her hurting someone on accident, but because her way of combat was especially destructive. Consequence of being trained since she was old enough to hold a blade.

But she could watch, and she learned a lot by watching, about how to fit herself within the team. Anna had suggested it, and it had been a good idea.

For example, the two boys in front of her had opposite strategies that they somehow managed to make work. The older, Tom, lived up to his codename of Speed, dashing in among the mechanical opponents and then out of their range before they could hit back in a blur of red-blonde, emerald green, and silver. Whereas his brother, Will a.k.a. Wiccan, stuck to the back, red energy flickering around his fingertips that, when it came in contact with the delicate wiring of the bots, caused them to short circuit and fall. It was more of a mid-range attack rather than melee, which Speed was handling.

Analytically, Torunn had figured out where that had put her best suited—long range. Rather than using her sword and getting into Tom's way, she'd have been better suited for using her lightning to break up the approaching lines, thus giving the brothers a chance to breathe. But...that was the problem, wasn't it? She glanced at the sword at her side. A hand-and-half sword, it was longer than most favored by her people, though if needed she could still use a shield. It was also, typically, a man's weapon, requiring the wider and broader shoulders of the male build to use effectively, especially an Asgardian weapon built for the staggering heights her people sometimes reached.

But Torunn was no normal female. At fifteen, when she had been sent to this world, she was already her mother's height, and her proportions threatened to add at least another four inches before she was done (and so far, met—she'd grown an inch and a half in the last year), and while she wasn't of an exaggerated physique, there was no missing that she was built for battle. Her face was of an aristocratic and cold beauty, with strong jaw and brows, her near-ebony hair falling straight down her shoulders to curl at the ends at her back. She was every inch the child of Thunder and War, a goddess of Lightning meant to stand alongside her parents on the front-lines.

Except for the fact that she couldn't control so said Lightning at all. She sighed, resting her hand upon Lynnringer, a gift from her king. It was of the same make as her father's hammer, and served a similar purpose. A tool, meant to help the wielder channel their natural ability, until they could control it themselves. But much like the hammer had been cursed so that only one worthy of its power could lift it, Lynnringer had...a personality of her own.  _She_  would chose her bearer, and how much of her power they could use. So far, the sword was tolerating Torunn, absorbing her extra magic and helping her channel it, but sometimes, if the sword disagreed, it would stop.

She was supposed to be here learning how to tap into it herself, how to keep accidents from happening, how to make Lynnringer accept her. But it was hard, when the mentor her king had intended didn't want to be in the same room as her. She wondered, briefly, if Odin had known his son would be so difficult after having a daughter sprung on him. Torunn wasn’t allowed in his presence enough to ask, not even allowed to refer to him as her grandfather, just her king.

The twins finished their combat trials, coming to stand by each other as they awaited their scores. It was impossible to miss, now that Speed was standing still, that they were identical twins. With red-touched blonde hair and a softness to their face, though with high cheekbones, they were more their mother's children than anything else, yet their eyes were the mechanical green-grey of the Vision. (Torunn _still_ hadn't gotten a straight answer out of anyone as to _how_ that had happened.) While Tom required a tac suit of a specialized fabric that wouldn't burn due to the friction of high speeds, Will had more of a free-hand, and so followed in the steps of his mother, favoring black and grey with flashes of scarlet, rather than a set "uniform."

The door behind Torunn unlocked with an audible peep. “Training room is now unlocked to new participants,” Friday reported.

“Thank you, Lady,” Torunn said politely. They had explained to her that Friday was an AI, but if her predecessor could become the Vision, who was acknowledged as his own person, then in Torunn’s opinion so was Friday.

She walked inside, and the twins grinned at her. “Hey Lightning, did you take notes?” Tom asked, leaning on his brother’s shoulder.

“You did very well,” she praised as their results started to appear on the screen. “Your strategy made the most of both of your talents and skills.”

Tom grinned, thrilled by her assessment. Will ducked his head, shy over the praise, and muttered, “We still could have used you to make some more holes in their defense.”

She nodded, ducking her head too. “I saw that as my intended place as well,” she agreed. She reached over and typed in a series of keys to add her observations to the report for their training. It would go to both the powers that be, as she’d heard James and Anna refer to the parents, and also to the leaders themselves, for evaluation. None of them were considered old enough to go on missions, though by her own people’s standards, Torunn was an adult.

“How’s that magic control going, anyway?” Tom asked curiously. Only to yelp when Will drove his elbow into his twin’s gut.

She smiled at them, trying for boisterous. “It is better! I am not ‘sparking,’ as Anna puts it, nearly as much!” And that was true. She was better in that regard, as long as she kept her emotions on an even keel.

Tom coughed and nodded, aiming for encouraging. “Good, good. Soooo… What do they have you doing for that?”

Torunn looked down at their feet, frowning. “Meditation techniques that help Ashton with his archery. Sparring with both Anna and James. Brooke observes, to help.” It was at least a little more than what she had been getting at home. She loved her mother, and her uncle-figures in the Warriors Three, but they were severely limited in what they could do for her once her powers manifested.

“But your dad—“ Tom was cut off with a loud yelp, moving to bounce on one foot as he held the other with what was probably a bruised instep.

“Ignore him, he has no tact,” Will muttered with a glower. He looked at Torunn and tilted his head. “You’re improving, and it’s only been a year. That’s a lot,” he complimented. “I know I kept accidentally making things break or malfunction for _years_ after my powers manifested.”

That did make Torunn feel at least a little better. She gave him a genuine smile, this time really feeling better. “We are having the pizza for dinner, on the common floor, if you wish to join us?” she offered them.

“Who is ‘we?’” Tom asked in suspicion, finally dropping his foot. She doubted it had actually been nearly as hurt as he let on.

“Lady Rose, Jenny, myself…” she listed on her fingers, trying to remember if any brothers or boyfriends were supposed to be there. Not to her knowledge.

Tom immediately held his hands up like he was surrendering a battle. “Oh no, I am _so_ not wading into that. Best of luck, bro.”

“What makes you think I am?” Will demanded, his voice squeaking a little and his eyes growing wide.

“You’re gay, don’t you belong in that sort of group by default?” Tom jabbed back, though it was obviously not meant to be hurtful.

Will shook his head rapidly. “Oh no. Uh uh. Not by myself. Sorry, Torunn, you are on your own there. Hopefully you and Anna can defend yourselves from the other two, though your height should guarantee you to be safe, no offense.”

“Defend ourselves? From what foe?” Torunn asked, growing increasingly alarmed.

“Uh, Jenny and Rose’s girliness?” Tom said like it was obvious. Torunn gave him a bemfused look, not sure what he meant. He added as if to help, “I think I still have pictures from when we were nine and had the brilliant idea to crash one of the girls’ sleepovers.”

“You had better not,” Will snapped in horror.

“The moms thought it was adorable, you know there are still pictures,” Tom said, making a face. “Especially since Dad totally doesn’t _get_ why pink toenail polish and ribbons is a form of torture.”

Torunn shook her head, not quite understanding. Her mother used to put ribbons in her braids when she was little, but that had stopped as Torunn had gotten older and taking care of her own dress. Why were they something the boys dreaded?

Either way, they clapped her on the shoulder as if she was going to her doom. “Best of luck, Torunn,” Will said with an empathetic smile. “Hopefully, they’ll go easy on you since you don’t seem like you’d enjoy that kind of thing.”

“I don’t know, they’ve never let up on Anna, and Rose still sneaks stuff into her closet,” Tom mused. And ducked as Will went to whack him upside the head. “Not this time!” he said, blowing out a raspberry and taking off out of the room.

Shaking his head, Will huffed and chased after him, but he was smiling. The door shut behind them, and Torunn sighed. “Lady Friday, I am going to stay here for a moment,” she called out so the AI would be aware.

“Would you like some target bots, Torunn?” she asked, her accented voice not sounding the least ruffled.

The tall brunette drew her sword, swinging it easily before taking it in both hands. “No, I merely desire to run forms.” It was Anna’s theory that by going back to basics, where Torunn didn’t have to focus on her sword or opponent, that she could try to puzzle out what caused the lightning to form.

As she settled into a pattern, Torunn’s determination grew. So her father didn’t want to even look at her, too busy sulking over not being told of her existence until last year. _Let him._ She would prove that she was worth his attention, that she was worthy of being his daughter, his true daughter. Sifsdotter no longer, even as honored as she was to be her mother’s child. She would prove herself.

With a particularly powerful thrust, she felt the lightning form in her arms, felt it trying to flow through her and into the sword. She took a shocked breath, dropping Lynnringer and staring at her fingertips. She’d _felt_ it start. Clenching her fingers, she beamed, scrambling for Lynnringer’s hilt. She sheathed her with an apologetic pat to flat of the blade, and then took off at a run for upstairs, her feet feeling so light it was like she had wings.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please note, no offense is meant by (or with) Tom. He's just being a jerk to his brother. Personal experience says they don't grow out of that for at least another couple of years.


	7. Girls' Night (Sorta)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rose helps bolster Torunn's confidence...and opens herself up to teasing from Jenny. (Anna, wisely, is hiding. Traitor.)

Rose looked up when Torunn came downstairs, a perplexed look on her face. She shook her head at Rose's pointed glance. "Anna has stated that she is going to review some circumstances with James, and has denied our invitation."

Well, that made things simple. And explained why there was a whole pizza missing from the stack instead of just one slice. Rose turned her eyes on to Jenny. "Alright, Stark. What did you do?"

Jenny rolled her head to the side to be able to see them, lowering her tablet from being right in front of her face. The petite redhead was sprawled across one of the sofas, dressed in comfortable clothing that she only wore if she was sure her boyfriend wasn't going to see her in it. (Otherwise it was high-fashion, elegant punk that was pretty similar to Rose’s, if maybe a little less extreme.) The purple in the pajama pants had long since faded to pink, the Tweety Birds all over it a pastel sort of yellow. Rose couldn't even tell what the matching white shirt said anymore, the design was so thoroughly worn off.

"I didn't do anything!" she protested her innocence. "I swear, and I even apologized for the last kerfuffle. It is _not_ on me this time."

That was odd, then. Rose bit into her slice of Hawaiian pizza with a frown, trying to puzzle this out. Was something going on that Anna hadn't talked to her about? That wasn't the norm, usually they shared information among each other, it made living here more bearable. But then, if anyone was the best at keeping secrets, it would be Anna. She tended to do that, mostly to keep them safe and so when she did something outlandish that got the parents stirred up like hornets, the only person they could blame was herself, possibly James if he was also in on it unknowingly. The question was, what did the "masterless samurai" have up her sleeve this time?

Torunn was picking at the pizza, still not used to Earth food, and uneasily looking between them. "The twins made it sound like you were going to force some forms of cruel entertainment upon me," she said at last. While not quite as dim as her father, Torunn was still blunt and to the point.

Rose and Jenny shared looks, making faces at each other to talk. Yes, they liked to be more feminine than almost anyone else, and nights like tonight were practically the only time they could beat any of their accumulated knowledge into Anna. But Torunn was still new and awkward, they needed to play nice. Jenny was usually the pushy one, so if she was wanting to ease Torunn into the water, Rose was willing to back down. "That's because they should know better than to try and spy on us," Rose settled for instead.

"Who knew it would scar them for life?" Jenny added dryly. "No, I'll just put a movie on and we can watch that and explain what you don't understand, Torunn. Though I would like to play with your hair, if you don't mind?"

"And my own nails are chipped and need redone, but unless you want me to, I'm not touching yours," Rose said dryly. And that's what they did. Jenny fetched a hairbrush and some simple things from her room, and Rose got her manicure kit.

For her part, Torunn's eyes flickered between Rose's actions and the movie, though she held remarkably still for Jenny's brushing. Rose was intrigued to see that despite her course treatment of it, Torunn's hair really was like silk once brushed...frustratingly so, since Jenny was struggling to get it to do anything. Rolling her eyes once she'd gotten her nails clean, Rose, snapped her fingers and held out her hand. "Let me see," she said with a sigh. Jenny traded places with a groan, but she was watching Rose carefully.

Rose was gently, parting Torunn's hair (which there was a lot more of than it looked) into sections. As she began to braid, she asked Torunn, "Why do you leave it loose? Pulling it back might help it stay out of your face in battle."

Torunn's shoulders came up a little, her head tilting back towards Rose as she said honestly, "I don't know how. Mother... Mother stopped doing it, when I was younger, and it never looked right when I tried to copy it, so I gave up." She looked down at her fingers, rough from sword work, and picked at her nail beds. "She hardly ever does her own hair either, that's the handmaidens."

Who Torunn didn't have access to, Rose filled in the gaps for her. After all, Torunn was a bastard child, and if Asgardian society was anything like most medieval societies, that denied her a lot of basic rights until Thor acknowledged her. _If_ he acknowledged her. "Well, we can teach you how to braid it, at least," she said, grabbing a ribbon that Jenny offered to help hold the braids together as she started weaving the several smaller braids into a larger tail. "Nothing this fancy, of course, unless you have someone to impress."

The Asgardian snorted a little as if laughing. "As attractive as your males can be, I am taller than most of them. I think I might be better suited to my own kind, even if I will have to wed older."

"How much older?" Jenny asked. Rose glanced at her, and saw a familiar twinkle in her eye...and that the Stark was helping herself to Rose's polish. Brat. She was dithering over what to do, at least, looking between colors.

"Father is almost fifteen hundred years old, age is mostly a number to us," Torunn pointed out with a wrinkle of her nose. "And there are plenty of bachelors between his age and mine."

Eyeing Jenny's options, Rose offered as advice, "Nude base, black tips, and a stripe of metallic blue between them." She tied off Torunn's hair and picked up one of her hands, accepting a nail file from Jenny absently. She wasn't going to try and paint Torunn's nails, but she could file the edges and buff them. "As long as you'd be happy with that," Rose said, to make it clear that they weren't judging. "Anyone in particular have your eye, or is this all hypothetical?"

"Hypothetical," Torunn said. Too fast. The two redheads, even if one was dye, shared looks and then gave Torunn the side-eye. She squirmed under their attention, slouching down a little. "It's true," she protested. "It's not like it's possible--"

"We're not asking if it's possible, we're asking if you think someone is handsome and attractive enough that you'd kiss him if given the opportunity," Jenny argued. "For example, I've always wondered if Ash lives up to his own ego."

Well, that was bait. Even if Jenny didn’t realize it was bait. Damned if Rose could ignore it though. "You have a boyfriend," she pointed out tensely.  _And,_  she mentally added,  _I know how to get rid of a body._

Jenny fluttered her eyelashes. "Oh, he knows, and he's threatened to dump me and punch Ash if it ever happens. Not the point. Come on, Torunn, you can talk to us. Who's the pretty boy?" She paused, tilting her head. "Or man, in this case, I guess? This is weird, but I am trying so hard not to kink-shame because different species."

Torunn looked between them, hesitating. "It stays between us?" she confirmed, her voice small and hesitant. Both nodded, and Rose switched hands, giving Torunn's palm a squeeze before focusing on her nails again. Biting her lower lip, Torunn shifted and ducked her head down. "Uncle Fandral," she admitted with a wince.

"Literal uncle or helped raise me and therefore is considered family uncle?" Jenny confirmed before making any sort of snap judgment. _Good, she_ was _learning_ , Rose noted.

"The latter," Torunn said, relaxing at least a little when neither of them made any poor expression or sign of disgust. "He is one of the Warriors Three, and I spent the most time with him, outside of Mother. He... He spars with me, and thinks it is funny when I defeat more experienced opponents. And he takes me solar sailing." She deflated a little. "I am just a child to him, though."

"Because you are a child, still," Rose pointed out, trying to be nice about it. "But in a couple of years, you'll be finished growing, and you'll get to reintroduce yourself to him. He'll see someone different then. It wouldn't have been appropriate, or healthy, if he'd been interested before you left." That was definitely a point to enforce here, since with their long lifespans, Torunn was jumping the gun a good deal. Rose finished what she was doing and nodded, satisfied with the level of changes they had brought about in one evening. "If anything, the next few years are a good time for you to decide some things, figure them out, and then meet Fandral as equals...rather than with him as your uncle."

Jenny huffed a little. "Right, right, healthy and sane relationships between consenting individuals is important. We get it, now please describe the warrior prince that managed to turn our little Torunn's head," she begged, her chin on her hands as she pouted at Torunn.

Who was obviously floundering, looking to Rose for confirmation on what to do. Rolling her eyes, Rose whispered. "Tell her what he looks like."

"Oh, well..." she dithered, twisting her fingers. "Um, he is tall, though not as tall as Father. More willowy for an Asgardian, so I suppose more like Captain Rogers. Blonde. He, um, he is very charming, very free-spirited." She paused, obviously trying to think of how to describe someone that she knew so well to people who had never met him. "But he is very kind, and very protective. He'd never let anyone say anything about Mother or me. He likes to make jokes, at his expense and at others. He teases me, some. He calls me lightning bug."

"Awwww, that's so cute," Jenny said with a slow smile. "Lightning bug!"

Rose snickered a little, starting on her own nails at last. She was going for a variation of a French-tip, black base with white tips. "I suspect he'll stop using that nickname when you go home," she noted, eyeing Torunn critically.

"What, why?" Torunn asked, looking genuinely alarmed.

"Which part, the fact you're going to be almost six foot if not slightly over, or the fact you've gone up a cup size in the last year?" Jenny asked crassly. And confused Torunn even more, since she didn't necessarily wear modern clothing.

Blowing on her first coat to help it dry, Rose used her free hand to pull, Torunn up and over to a mirror, letting her see herself with her hair pulled back and out of her face. "Because you will be a grown, beautiful woman who can kick ass." She held Torunn's chin so she wouldn't duck her head at the compliment, and actually look at herself in the mirror. "Trust us, men like that. And if they don't, they aren't men." With that, the younger girl finally gave a smile, one that lit up her whole face. That was more than a little satisfying for Rose.

At least, until Jenny later started needling her about Ash. Then she started seriously regretting this whole night. Next time, she'd go hide with Anna.


	8. The End is the Beginning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brooke struggles with the loss of her safety, Stephanie and Ash help her pick up the pieces.

When the attack came, it was on a normal day, except for the fact half of the parents were already out of the Tower. The kids were enjoying a little bit of freedom as a result, and the Supreme Sorcerer had even deigned to let his daughter out of the protective walls of the Sanctum to spend time with her best friend (and fellow home-schooler). Brooke had been thrilled to have someone with her—she wasn't allowed to leave the upper levels, and her siblings' suites and shared floor weren't considered as secure as a result. The higher up in the Tower you went, the more security clearance you had to have, it was just a fact.

But that hadn't mattered, in the end.

Brooke looked up as Stephanie walked over to sit in front of her. It also forced her to look around at the wreckage of the common floor. The glasses of the window were all shattered, the shards littering the floor, and there was damage to the walls, though nothing structural it appeared. The elevator was out of commission, the doors partially open to reveal the empty shoot (or at least, empty until you hit the smashed car at the bottom). Stephanie put her hands on top of hers, trying to offer some comfort. "How did this go so wrong so fast?" Brooke asked, quiet, looking towards her friend.

Sighing, the young magician squeezed tightly for a second, her face drawn. She had a softer face than her father, though she had his high forehead. She was all browns, with chestnut hair and eyes, warm skin, though she dressed in blues that immolated the robes of the Sanctum's protectors. "Because our parents didn't want to tell us the truth," she said honestly, her English accent light but honest. "I can't decide if it was just to keep us safe, or if it was so we could be a last line of defense that _he_ doesn't know about."

The emotional ache that Brooke was feeling wasn't just hers. She was picking up bits of everyone else's too, everyone now worried about their parents. They knew some of them, at least, were alive, but which ones...? "Is there any word from the jet?" she asked, remembering how the parents had been split apart, some of them taking care of another problem in the world. They'd been split again when members of the Dark Order arrived, and now no one knew exactly who was where.

"Not yet, Friday is pretty much only alive in Jenny's suit," Stephanie said with a frown. "Unless you are feeling up to getting the communication main working, or Dad manages to send a message through arcane means, we're in the dark."

Her mother had died, in the city. She'd felt it, felt Mockingbird fall. And her father was on that jet. What if something had happened to him too? Brooke didn't want to think about it. She took a shuddering breath, trying to stay focused. "What are we going to do now?"

"Well, for one thing, you two are going to stop worrying about what we're going to do now," a male voice said dryly, even as familiar arms wrapped around Brooke's shoulders from behind in a loose hug. She relaxed a little into her brother's hold, or at least as much as her chair would let her. "Anna and James are making up a plan now. They did have a couple of questions for you, Stephanie." Ash eyed the golden pendant around her neck. "Specifically about that little doo-dad that got left with you."

Stephanie paled, her fingertips resting over the golden medallion. "They can't be thinking what I think they are," she hissed and stood up, stalking away with power in her stance. Despite being only a little older than Brooke, she stood up to Anna like she was already grown and fully-trained.

Brooke bit her lower lip to keep in the insane urge to giggle at the sight. Ash grinned as well as he crouched down to be about her eye level. He ran his hands along her chair's numerous parts, checking the mechanics to make sure everything was still functioning like it was supposed to. "You're about to put some miles on these wheels at last," he told her.

Leave? Leaving the Tower? She looked at him with wide, fearful eyes. She'd never left before. Not only because of her wheelchair—her mother had always been very fierce that Brooke could do whatever she wanted to do, even without working legs. But her shielding out of other people's emotions was crap. Brooke felt everything, not just herself, but also anyone within her unknown range. She'd go crazy.

But Ash took one of her hands in his. "Anna and I are going to bolster your shields," he promised. "We aren't as powerful as you, no, but we can help. And the facts are written already, we know what we have to do."

"What's already written?" she asked, confused. If it was a metaphor, she was not following him. But Ash's hope battered against her own upset.

"Thanos tries to take the Tesseract from Asgard, remember? But it wasn't there," he coaxed her to follow the train of thought. "Right now, our parents are keeping him distracted with the Mind Stone, with protecting Vision. So we're going to use the Time Stone in Stephanie's necklace to try and save everyone."

There was deliberate emphasis there. How could they save everyone, when she'd...? Brooke's eyes widened. "Mom..." she breathed. "You're going to pull her forward in time." And the others who had fought with her, the ones they thought to be dead.

"And we're going to pull the Tesseract forward too," he admitted with a grimace. "It's the only way to make it possible. But we can't keep those two stones here. Right now, he's too powerful for us to defeat."

"So what are we going to do? If the Avengers can't defeat him, what are we supposed to do?" she asked.

He put his hands on her cheeks, forcing her to look at him. "Hey now, I never said the Avengers can't beat him," Ash reassured her, brushing her hair out of her face. It was the same ashy blonde as their father's, and she had his brighter eyes too. Her features, though, always reminded everyone of her mother. "We just don't have enough of us. So we're going to get help while the parents stall."

"More Asgardians?" Brooke said skeptically. She meant no offense to Torunn, or to Thor, but would they really make that big of a difference? Would they even agree? As much as Midgard was supposed to be protected by Asgard, things between the two realms had been...tense, to put it mildly.

"No," Ash said honestly, a clever little quirk at the corner of his mouth. "More Avengers." She gave him a baffled look, and that quirk turned into a full grin. "Your big sister has a positively _brilliant_ idea about the space-time continuum that we could put to test with the two stones in question. It'll take those two out of play, make Thanos's goal impossible, until we have what we need to defend ourselves."

She twisted her fingers together, looking down. "I don't know how much good I'll be," she admitted, glaring at her legs. Legs that had never worked, not since her birth. They were kept strong only because of exercises that others helped her with, in case of a miracle ever happening. "Maybe I should stay here."

He snorted at her observation. "Like we're leaving you behind. The only person who knows Friday as well as Tony is _you_. Oh, Jenny knows the theory, she doesn't know the practicalities of it. You do. Together, you two will be able to patch us into the network of other timelines and realities so those versions of our parents don't shoot us out of the sky."

"They wouldn't!" she protested. He gave her a look, and she grumbled. "Okay, Mom and Dad would _want_ to, but Capt would stop them."

"Yeah, well, if we run into a timeline where Steve wasn't pulled from the ice, or God forbid, ever made, then we need to be prepared," he pointed out with a grumble. "So Anna is going to pack a bag for you, and we're going to the jet now, so you can get started on waking up a bigger version of Friday than just the little bit Jenny has. Alright?"

"Alright," she agreed with a sigh, and held up his arms. He turned around, giving her his back, and she wiggled her way to where she could grab his shoulders, pulling herself up on to his back, her useless legs trailing behind her. He quickly swept one up under his arm, and then reached to hit a button on the chair with the other, collapsing it down to a modified backpack. Stark's own invention, not that they'd ever really used the feature much. He handed her the strap so she could get herself settled, and picked up her other leg so she wouldn't get hurt. They were old hats at this, what with the rather wide age-difference between them, though usually Dad preferred to carry her.

He'd get to again, she thought with determination. He would! She refused to believe anything else. He was the Hawkeye, but she was his little bird, the only child who had taken a name calling back to both parents (even if it wasn't official), and she was bringing Mom back to him. Her parents were always strongest together, and she had to believe that it would make all the difference. She turned her head so she could watch the others. Stephanie slouched, looking a little defeated, while Anna just looked resigned. So the plan was on then, despite the current Keeper's protest. Brooke frowned and mentally promised to keep an eye on the proceedings for Stephanie, to prevent a bunch of paradoxes or branching timelines.

Ash set her down in the jet at a computer console, and Brooke kissed his cheek in gratitude before she started typing away. "Alright, Friday, time to wake up," she murmured, reaching with for her headset with one hand to slip it on. Owlette was officially on the field.


	9. BONUS: Wakonda - A Father's Pride

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Raised separate from their fellow Young Avengers, Azari and Totit join the cause.

Totit stalked into the room at the top of the palace, specifically the royal family's private wing. No one thought to stop her, not just because she was a Dora, but because of her recent change in status to betrothed to the heir to the throne. It made her aunts and sisters among the Dora proud, and it wasn't like they had ever kept her from the prince anyway. Due to their closeness in age, they had been best friends since childhood, and worked together better than apart.

And someone had to make Azari come up for air.

Like now. He sat cross-legged in the middle of the floor, palms up on his knees in a form of meditation. Incense burned, making her nose itch, and his eyes were shut. With his shirt off, it was hard to miss that he was a little too well built for a seventeen year old, and the black markings across his shoulders and chest. Black markings that were currently pulsing purple. She eyed them with caution. Sometimes, Azari had more power than he was aware of, and could cause things to happen. No one quite understood how their prince had been born with the power of the Heart-Shaped Herb. But they were left to puzzle it out, and he was left to control it.

For now, however, she grabbed one of the rocks from the fountain to throw at him. A rather peevish part of her hoped that it would hit.

The reflexes of the Black Panther were no joke, however. He caught the stone as if he had seen her throw it, and opened his eyes to glare at her. "There had to have been a better way to get my attention," he scolded, unfolding his legs to stand up.

She huffed and crossed her arms. "You have been at it for over an hour, and missed the security systems arming," she pointed out dryly, enjoying the glimmer of panic that crossed his face. "I believe my actions were appropriate, my prince."

"I suppose they were," he said, reaching for his tunic to slip it on even as he walked her way. He pressed a kiss to the side of her head, shaved as was the fashion of the Dora, though she had gained tattoos along her ears that indicated her status as more. "Thank you for coming for me. Where is my father?"

"In the council chambers," she said, falling into step immediately behind him as he stalked that way. "He is there with some of the Avengers, and some of their children. There was a good deal of fighting, but the children's leader is feisty and would not take no for an answer."

"Noted," he said dryly. Azari knew his betrothed too well. If she was calling the newcomers feisty, it meant she liked them. The youngest of the elite guard, she hadn't had a chance to master the mask of duty like her mother. It hadn't mattered too much, since they were rarely allowed to appear for public appearances.

The council chambers were surprisingly empty of council members. His father and grandmother were there, his mother nowhere in sight—knowing her, she was helping evacuate the city. Even as queen, her interest remained with the people first. The others Azari knew only by reputation. Captain America stood beside his father, along with the girl who went by the code name of Ronin, her black and yellow costume a stark contrast to the man beside her, the captain's son who honored his mother with the white jacket he wore over his armor. Ronin's parents, the Mockingbird and the Hawk, were quietly arguing by the window, both of their faces distressed.

It was his father, though, who commanded Azari's attention. Totit stayed back a step, and Ronin joined her, again whispering softly and Azari pointedly didn't listen. He wanted his king to tell him, not a stranger.

"Danger is at our doors, my son," his father rumbled, resting his hands on Azari's shoulders. The warmth was dry and gentle, and he swallowed, standing taller under them. But the next words cut the winds out of him. "You are going to go with Ronin and the other children."

"But Baba," Azari protested.

King T’Challa squeezed his son's shoulders and ducked his head down a little to make maintaining eye contact easier. "This is not just to keep you safe," he said, though thankfully he didn't lie and say it wasn't a factor. Azari would have fought more if he had. "They are going as part of a plan to help us defend our country. To defend our world. You and Totit can help them where I cannot."

It made logical sense, and duty compelled him to obey. But Azari ducked his head, hands clenching into fists. "I don't want to leave you," he muttered. "I want to fight _alongside_ you."

His father pulled him into a hug, making it that much harder for Azari to keep up his princely mask. "It is the same fight, on different fronts," he promised. pulling back and slipping a chain around his neck. Golden claws on a beaded string, he recognized it as the second of the Black Panther suits his aunt Shuri had designed before he was born. It was older, but still functional. "Prince Azari, you were born with the power of the Golden Tribe already inside of you. Perhaps _this_ is why. I have done what I can to prepare you, but now it is up to you. Will you join this fight?"

There was only one answer for Azari to give. "Yes, my king."

T’Challa gave him a smile of fatherly pride, and that helped the sting of being told to leave his home. "You make your mother and I both so proud to be your parents," he vocalized his feelings, helping ease some of the hurt. Sometimes, the relationships in the family were strained, as if his parents were always surprised by the way he thought. But not now. Now, T’Challa gave clear directions, knowing Azari would follow them to the letter. "Listen to Ronin. She is effectively in charge of you and Totit."

"Totit is coming?" Azari confirmed, twisting his head to look, but they were already by the door. Waiting for him. Totit actually looked like she was taking this seriously for a change. He wondered if she'd have a chance to say goodbye to her mother. General Okoye would not be happy if her king sent her youngest daughter away with no word to her, not to mention what M’Baku would do for sending her off into danger.

"She is your bodyguard, isn't she?" his father asked in amusement, knowing that the relationship was in fact far different.

The alarms screamed, cutting off the argument between the Avengers and making all the adults stiffen. "Go!" his father barked out, setting out at a jog and urging the teenagers to do the same. "Take one of our ships. Totit can fly you."

Ronin nodded and Totit stretched out her legs to take the lead. Despite the height differences between the two, Ronin had no trouble keeping up. Azari forced himself to catch up, and didn't look back. If he looked back, he'd never leave.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Character Updates:
> 
> **T'Challa-Nakia**  
>  Prince Azari, 17-May 12th, a.k.a. the Black Panther. Genius-level intellect, born with the power of the Heart-Shaped Herb.
> 
> **Okoye-M'Baku** (Note, second marriage for them both, he's a widower, she's...complicated)  
>  Totit, 17-February 3rd. Trained Wakandan warrior, pilot, and member of the Dora Milaje. Bodyguard to the prince.


End file.
